


We Don't Have to Talk

by Starofwinter



Series: Flowers and Tattoos [67]
Category: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Flower Shop & Tattoo Parlor, Catharsis, M/M, Punk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-06
Updated: 2019-11-06
Packaged: 2021-01-24 12:39:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21338386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Starofwinter/pseuds/Starofwinter
Summary: Bottles smash, I raise my handHow can you all even stand itWhy is there joy in this poison, ohSometimes all Stick and Anomaly need is to feel the music again.
Relationships: Stick/Poke/Anomaly/Killer
Series: Flowers and Tattoos [67]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/671504
Comments: 2
Kudos: 12





	We Don't Have to Talk

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kristsune](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kristsune/gifts).

> Heavily inspired by [We Don't Have to Dance](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fcNry803EUA) by Andy Black. Stick belongs to [Kris!](https://kristsune.tumblr.com/)

Anomaly grips Stick’s hand, dragging him into the middle of the pit. His hand is too tight on his boyfriend’s, and he feels a twinge of guilt, but he knows the look on Stick’s face, and he knows they both need this.

The bass thrums through his bones and resonates in the hollowness of his arm, but it feels  _ good _ . Feels like home. The bodies press in against them, hot and smelling of sweat and cheap beer and cigarettes, and it feels like where they should be, throats already raw from smoke and screaming the lyrics to songs they know by heart.

Sometimes, when the thoughts get too loud, the only thing that drowns them out is music so loud it makes their ears ring for hours, and the taste of tobacco shared in kisses, and the bruises and scratches they’ll wear later from being thrown in with so many other bodies in a too-small space. It’s just suffocating enough to choke out the anger and violence burning in their chests.

They stay as close as they can, fists raised overhead, opposite hands clasped between them. They know the risks - the punks are always the most accepting, but it’s still a small town and there’s still the skinhead shitheads that want to start trouble. That’s fine, they can  _ handle _ trouble. They  _ like _ handling trouble, being given a reason to let go and fight someone. Broken glass and fists fly as they defend themselves and each other, and try to ignore the way the fight feels good.

When the last notes fade out and they make their way home, leaning into each other, bruised and cut up hands linked, their blood smearing and mixing together, they feel  _ better _ . Healed. 

Poke and Killer get to work bandaging them up and giving them those worried looks when they get home, but neither of them need to say anything to each other to know this was what they need.


End file.
